The Ballad of Murder
by Mistress Koko
Summary: AU. She was never one to be tricked back, because she was perfect at what she does. But everyone loses at some point.


**The Ballad of Murder**

She could easily be compared to any painting; always a smiling face, bright, and pretty to look at. But it wasn't just the smile that made her so much like a painting- it was what was _behind_ the smile: a wicked secret that no one would ever find pretty, or even _bright_. Those little clear eyes of hers would just cloud over every little detail that one would love to pick at, or else they'd fall for her tricks. Her sugary sweet voice- no one ever noticed the poison that was laced right in by surprise.

Her job was to trick- and to trick was simply such a vague term to her, because she could find so many ways to be able to define it. Almost like a magician, she could never reveal her secrets of great leisure; it was all too much fun, her performances. That's how she always viewed it, a performance and the whole world like a little pretty stage. Excuse her, _per __favore_, as she would freshen up for her next act.

That's what everything was to her: an act, a performance. Life was nothing but her stage, her audience, her lines. She had preferred it that way, it was more fun to think it like that than just face the simple reality of despair and depression. But it was her own little world that led her to become the famous person she is today.

She is sought after by many people, her tricks known to be one of quite a kind! They all range from so many odd things of being able to do- she certainly is a talented young thing, isn't she?

Thing is, she is definitely not easy to trick back; she has yet to meet her match. Many have tried to trick her back, to make her fail, get her to lose. Make her mess up, I dare you! It seems like quite the impossible task, being stuck inside that little world of hers.

But upon meeting a dull gaze, like an unwrapped gift she felt so eager to unravel, she smirked widely. Her performances always started the moment she and her _victim_ would lock eyes, so the show would ignite. However, the owner to the dull eyes seemed _bored_ and uninterested, and honestly, _she did not like that_. Everyone loved her! Her acting, her little show, her dances, her _tricks_! But he didn't budge. And this made her so upset; and it was that that made him _smirk_.

_Anger_- that's what he wanted! She smirked on the inside, her face still twisted with frustration, as she continued her little show, her special guest watching with a much wider smirk. She didn't miss a beat though, because she was _much too good for that_, and yet somehow, _he could tell_. Oh _signore_, don't tell her you know she's playing a game with you! That smirk you wear, it's leaving so quickly! She cursed in her mind, realizing she was being played like the perfect doll that she was!

This time, she walked over to him, with such a smirk filled with pretty coy, her walk smooth as the silk she wore. He _pretended_ to be unfazed by her action, but those little dull eyes showed a slimmer of shock and surprise. This only made her more excited inside of her, making her show bigger than before. She was right before him, eying him like a snake with its prey, and he only seemed to sneer with annoyance. Right now, the whole word, the people around them, they weren't her audience; _he was_. He was her stage, her show, the whole package now. But he didn't seem to like it, not one bit.

He backed away, shouting out curses and such foul, ugly words! She was almost insulted, and she mocked that hurt out to him, and that slimmer of victory and the small smirk was back one more. She didn't smirk outside, oh no, she grew her "anger" out to amuse him, _to lure him into her world_. Questionings, tantrums, she wanted to play the cute little anger card as much as she could to keep him _trapped in_. But that little string she seemed to keep him on, fell short- so short- to her expectations as he just grew bored once more!

My my _signore_, you sure know how to play those cards well, don't you? Are you a Poker champion? A master behind the math of these little papers? You really know how to keep our special little _ragazza_ on her feet! Does it amuse you to watch her try to please you?

Maybe another approach? Maybe she needed to show a new emotion! A new act! One she could try to make up as she go? No no, that would never work- she always planned carefully, she was never one to improvise! This all drove the little _ragazza_ inside oh so insane, and it was _that_ act, when the man with the dull eyes noticed, he was amused. But the poor girl, our little painting come to life, she was so dizzy, spinning in her little perfect world, she didn't notice!

She felt faint, so light and dainty, ready to fall as slow and precisely as a flower petal. Her clear as day eyes showed this nauseous show for the man to see, and he held unto her to make sure she didn't lose herself. He spoke strange words into her ears, making her world spin so much faster than before- please, _stop_! But it didn't, because his words strung so deep, she felt herself _break_ for the first time in her life. His voice, it was so sweet to her ears, so alluring, so enchanting like the world she lived it; how ironic that it was _that beautiful sound_ that was killing her way of living.

She felt herself ready to collapse when he stopped- whether because she wanted to hear more, or because he destroyed everything she knew, she didn't know. Her petite and pale as the moon hands stayed gripping at his shoulders as to not let go of her dream, and he didn't seem to care, nor mind. She spoke softly, her voice broken as much as her heart and mind, only asking him for one and one thing only.

_Per __favore__ signore, __come __si __chiama__?_


End file.
